The Very Things
by Ultra-Geek
Summary: Or, four times Kirk didn’t thank Bones and one time that he did.


**Title:** The Very Things  
**Author:** Ultra-Geek  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothin' but my bones. /cackles/  
**Summary:** Or, four times Kirk didn't thank Bones and one time that he did.  
**AN – **This is FRIENDSHIP, not SLASH. Just saying...

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_"We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude." -Cynthia Ozick_

* * *

**1.**

He'd managed to wrangle his own room. And, he was told, for a cadet his first year at the Academy that was quite a feat. Whatever, McCoy didn't really care. All it meant was that there would be some quiet. He would take care of getting rid of the extra set of furniture in the morning.

He was just enjoying that quiet and unpacking his belongings – which were depressingly few – and currently cracking open a bottle of whiskey and contemplating his sad life when there was a knock at the door, and that thought drew to an abrupt halt as he discovered who his visitor was.

It was that kid from the shuttle. What was his name? John? James? There was a 'J' involved. He knew that the last name was definitely Kirk.

"Hello!" Kirk said happily, "Remember me?"

Jim! _That's_ what it was.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked gruffly. McCoy couldn't help but notice the kid's bag was sitting by his feet.

"Actually, yeah," he said. "I sort of…came here as a last minute decision. Actually, I made the decision and then got right on the shuttle. So, I don't really have anywhere to stay, and I was wondering if I could crash here until I get a place?"

McCoy leaned against the door jam. "Don't you have any friends you could stay with?"

Kirk shook his head, looking completely unbothered by that fact. "Like I said, it was a last minute decision. You're, uh, you're really the only person that I know here."

McCoy thought longingly of his quiet and his bottle of whiskey. However, that reminded him that with the quiet and whiskey came the contemplation of his sad life. He opened the door wider. "Sure, why the hell not?"

Kirk grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "I knew you'd say yes, Bones. I hope your roommate won't mind."

_Bones_?

"I don't have a roommate," said McCoy. He shut the door, and thought he really didn't like the look the kid got at that sentence. "How long are you going to be staying here, again?"

Three years later McCoy got his answer.

**2.**

Even once he was made Captain, and McCoy was the CMO and that pointy eared bastard was first officer, Kirk never once thanked McCoy for getting him on board the _Enterprise_ in the first place.

Once, McCoy brought it up with Kirk. Asked how the hell had his mother raised him, and where was his gratitude?

Kirk had gaped at him for a second. "Numb tongue, bloated hands, severe allergic reaction to just about everything you gave me," he listed off, "and fainting in front of the crew, the fat hands, and I say those again 'cause I have two."

Then he had just walked away.

McCoy didn't bring it up again. He figured that they were about even.

**3.**

The red lights were flashing. The electronic recording of "Contamination detected, contamination detected," had been blaring and grating for a good thirty seconds. All around, doors were slamming shut and sealing. All of it was part of protocol.

James T. Kirk always _did_ have a problem with following that kind of thing.

As a result, he was left stranded in the halls of the _Enterprise_ as a toxic, deadly smoke filled the air around him. He had a piece of fabric tied over his face, true. But that wouldn't protect him for long. He hadn't really thought that the aliens in the other ship – Morgarans, they called themselves – would actually attack. A toxic gas in space? Seriously? Kirk couldn't even figure out how they had gotten it on board.

His thoughts were brought to a close by harsh coughs wracking his chest. He gasped for air, only to find the task obstructed by that fabric that was supposed to be protecting him. Declaring it useless, he pulled it off his face and let it fall to the ground. The coughs continued, and Kirk found his vision blurring.

_This is it_, he found himself thinking, almost laughing at the thought, _James Kirk, killed off by evil fog.._

His chest burned and he moved forward a step before collapsing against a wall, barely able to stand anymore. Every breath was a mouthful of burning acidity that scorched at his throat. Panic threatened to overtake the young captain.

But then a pair of arms was pulling him slightly away from the wall, and a filter mask was roughly secured over his nose and mouth. He tried to push away the hands. "Dammit, Jim, just breathe!" a voice next to his ear said. "I'm not paid enough for this…"

"B-Bones?" Kirk gasped. He coughed again, but could feel the aching burn in his lungs subsiding.

"Yeah, yeah," McCoy grumbled from next to his head. "Now just shut up and breathe, you dumb ass. Next time they say they're gonna gas the ship so get somewhere secure, just believe that they're gonna gas the ship and get somewhere secure! Didn't you learn anything at the Academy? _Dammit_, Jim."

Kirk didn't know if McCoy continued after that, for he promptly passed out.

**4.**

"Bones, _hide me_!"

"What the hell, Jim?"

"She's going to eat me! You got to help me, Bones, please, God, she's gonna eat my, I can't even say it, but she's gonna do it!"

McCoy could only blink as Kirk cowered behind him. A moment later, a girl came sauntering around the corner, and her eyes locked predatorily on Kirk. She began to stalk forward. "Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a bodyguard!" he snapped.

But then he pushed Kirk into the sick bay anyway. By the time the girl entered said sick bay, McCoy had Kirk sitting on a table and was apparently giving him a physical. In that time, Bones had also managed to learn that the girl's name was K'miri, her mother was the Ambassador who the _Enterprise_ was currently transporting, and while she was completely hot and loved a good glass of wine, her species had the unfortunate habit of eating their mates'…parts when they were done with them.

Kirk had, McCoy had been told frantically, not known that last part until it was just a bit too late to back out.

"Sorry, Jim," McCoy drawled loudly as the doors slid open and K'miri entered. "Looks like you have a pretty nasty case of Meridian Herpes."

The predatory smirk abruptly fell from K'miri's face. She beat a hasty retreat back the way she came as McCoy picked up a hypospray.

Kirk looked as if he was about to thank McCoy, until he noticed all of the smirking nurses surrounding him. He turned and glared at McCoy. "Gee, Bones, good work. Now all of the women who wouldn't eat my…you know…think that I have a STD!"

McCoy just rolled his eyes and weighed the ethical merits of jabbing Kirk in the neck with the hypo, just for shits and giggles and to teach the captain some gratitude. He shook his head at the thought; that would be totally and completely unethical.

A disturbingly evil grin spread across his face.

Kirk flinched. "_Ow!_"

**1.**

Kirk had his speech completely planned out. "You," he would say, "are a moron."

He said it out loud a few times. Then he nodded to himself. Yes, that would be the perfect way to start. Then he'd roll out with, "What the hell were you thinking? You are a _doctor_, not _me_!" He figured that Bones would appreciate the humor and the irony of the sentence.

"I mean, how could that have ended well? At all?" Kirk would say. And that would be the perfect opening, the perfect line to lead into the rest of the speech. And that, that would go something like this:

"They were going to take me, you know. Of course you know that! That's why you're an idiot! They would've left you alone, and then you could've patched me up and we wouldn't be having this conversation. You wouldn't have gotten beaten into a fucking pulp! If you hadn't been such a hero then we wouldn't have to be worrying about this. You would've said 'dammit, Jim' and we'd've moved on and hardly given this a second thought. I wouldn't have had to sit by your bed while you were in a coma for four days! Do you know how hard it is for me to just sit here and do nothing? Spock has had to run the ship, you know. All because of your stupid heroics.

"Of course you know how this is. I do it to you often enough. But this is different. You aren't the one who's supposed to get hurt.

"Bones, you should've let them drag me off instead of jumping in and making them take you. So what if I was concussed? I still could've taken 'em! Seriously. What were you thinking? What the _hell_ were you thinking?" Kirk would demand. Then he'd pause for a second for effect. Then he'd stare at Bones. "I want an answer. Now," he'd demand.

Yes, Kirk had everything all planned out. Now all he needed was for Bones to open his eyes and wake up. The four days turned into five, and he carefully revised his words to account for the passing time.

And then, at ten at night (Earth time) Bones' shuddered awake with a gasp and a spasm of his hands. He looked up at Kirk.

Kirk stared back down.

He thought about his You-Are-A-Moron-What-The-Hell-Were-You-Thinking speech.

None of those things came out.

His jaw worked noiselessly for a moment.

"I-I," Kirk stuttered, and then took a deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair. Then, there was really only one thing to say.

"Thank you, Bones."

The speech could wait until morning.


End file.
